"Then kiss me."
I did.
The kiss started soft—gentle exploration, relearning the shape of his mouth. But it quickly deepened as his hands fistedin my jacket, pulling me closer. I walked him backward until his back hit the windows, caging him there with my body.
"Luca—" He broke away breathing hard. "What are we doing?"
"What do you want to do?"
"You." He pulled me back in. "I want you."
I kissed him harder, grinding against him until we were both hard and desperate. His hands moved to my shirt, working open buttons, pushing the fabric off my shoulders. I let him undress me, standing still while he explored with hands and mouth.
"Bedroom," I said when I couldn't take it anymore. "I want you in my bed. Properly this time."
"Is there an improper way?"
"There's a fast desperate way and a slow thorough way. Tonight I want slow."
I led him to the bedroom, both of us shedding clothes as we went. By the time we reached the bed we were down to boxer briefs and flushed skin. I pushed him down onto the mattress and climbed over him, taking my time.
"You're beautiful," I said, tracing my hands over his chest, his ribs, his hips. "Every time I see you like this, I'm struck by how beautiful you are."
"You don't have to—"
"I'm not performing. I'm being honest." I leaned down and kissed his chest, his stomach, following the trail of dark hair that disappeared into his waistband. "You're beautiful and you're mine and I'm going to spend tonight showing you exactly how much I want you."
I pulled off his boxer briefs and took him in my mouth, working him with lips and tongue until he was gasping and writhing beneath me. I loved this—loved watching him fall apart, loved the power of reducing him to incoherent need.
"Luca, please—I'm going to—"
I pulled off before he could come. "Not yet. I want you desperate for me."
"I'm already desperate. Please."
I stripped off my own underwear and moved up his body, kissing him deeply so he could taste himself on my tongue. His legs wrapped around my waist automatically, grinding against me, seeking friction.
"Tell me what you want," I ordered. "Specifically."
"You. Inside me. Now."
"So demanding." But I reached for lube and condoms, prepared him with fingers that weren't quite steady. He opened for me beautifully, taking two fingers and then three, his body accepting me like it was made for this.
When I finally pushed inside, we both groaned at the sensation. Perfect. He felt perfect.
I started slow despite every instinct screaming to take him hard and fast. Rolled my hips in deep steady thrusts that made him gasp. Watched his face the whole time, cataloging every expression, every sound, every sign of pleasure.
"More," he demanded. "Harder."
"Not yet. I want to savor this." I changed the angle slightly and he cried out. "Want to feel every inch of you. Want to make this last."
"You're killing me."
"Good." I leaned down and kissed him thoroughly. "I want you completely undone. Want you to remember this every time you close your eyes."
I kept the pace slow and deep, building him up gradually. His nails raked down my back, leaving marks I'd feel tomorrow. Perfect. I wanted his marks on me just like my marks were on him.
"Touch yourself," I commanded. "Show me how close you are."
